


A Slice of Home for You and I

by FandomLife54



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Carla Price is a Saint, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evan "Buck" Buckley Needs A Hug, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Temporary Amnesia, Use Your Words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLife54/pseuds/FandomLife54
Summary: “Hey, Eddie?” The cautious tone stirs up the dread settled in his chest. “I need to ask you something, but I promise, no matter what you say, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here with you, ok?”This guy is way too good at calming him down. “Ok.”"What's my name?"OREddie gets hit in the head at the annual LAPD vs LAFD baseball game and can't remember a thing. Luckily, Buck is there to keep him company as he's reintroduced to the people and places in his life. With a week of domesticity before Buck's heading back to his own place, Eddie's not sure he wants things to end.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 733





	A Slice of Home for You and I

**Author's Note:**

> I AM NOT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL. 
> 
> Also, Disney movie spoilers???? (For Monsters, Inc. and Wall-E)
> 
> Write a short fluff fic, I said. It will be nice and sweet, I said. MINIMAL angst, I said.  
> Well, I lied. And this came out. I hope you like it hahah. If you do, please leave some kudos and share a comment. I will love you forever.  
> Enjoy :)

It’s disconcerting rising to consciousness without a single noise to wake him, though he’s not sure why. His eyes stay shut with ease in the quiet. So, why does he feel so anxious?

The world slips into view beneath his lashes; a room, but not one he recognizes, and a man that feels all too familiar sitting so casually, reading a book by his bed. He hardly turns his head when those blue eyes fix on him.

“Eddie!”  _ Wow,  _ what a smile. “I’m glad you’re finally awake. Do you remember what happened?” His blank stare seems to be answer enough. “The game? LAFD vs LAPD? That foul ball slammed straight into your helmet, man. You were talking nonsense on the field.” Long fingers curl around his hand like it’s where they belong. Like it’s where they’ve always been. “The doctor said you definitely have a concussion. We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up so they can check you over before I take you home. Chris has been worried all day.” 

Despite his brain short circuiting for a moment by the casual touch, he certainly understood what was being said. It processes like a story. A story about him. If only he could remember it actually happening.

“Umm.” A sharp twinge rings out of his forehead. “ _ Ow… _ ”

The gentle brush of those knuckles skims around the bump and he might just love the way this man looks at him. 

“Sorry, Eds. They needed you to wake up so they had to hold back on the pain meds. No worries, though. Soon, you’ll be home and I can dope you up nice and relaxed so you can sleep.”

There’s a deep compulsion not to disappoint the blond man in front of him. Telling someone who clearly has so much love and devotion for him that he doesn’t remember them? How could he hurt them like that? In all fairness, he doesn’t remember his own self either. 

_ Wait.  _ The man said his name earlier. 

“Hello.” A woman in a white coat walks in with a nurse trailing behind her. “I’m Dr. Olivia Torres. It’s good to see you’re awake. Sir, I need to ask my patient some questions. Would you mind stepping outside for a moment until we’re done? It won’t take long.”

He doesn’t even feel his hand move. One moment, he’s completely melted into the mattress and the next his fingers are wrapped around the man’s wrist.

“Eddie?” 

“He can stay.” 

It’s obvious to everyone in the room that he’s shaking, but he doesn’t care. Nothing else could matter when that man settles back into his seat, his free hand slipping over his. The doctor nods knowingly. 

“Understood. So, I’m going to ask you a series of questions and just answer them as best as you can. Ok?” He nods. “Good.”

_ Can you tell me your name? _

His grip squeezes a little tighter around the blond’s wrist. “Eddie.” 

_ Do you know today’s date?  _

Everything happened at a baseball game, right? “Saturday.”

_ Where do you work? _

A fifty-fifty chance to guess correctly. Which one, though? Eddie glances down to find the man absently tracing a thumb over his wrist, outlining the faint scar there. A quick peek around the other side finds another scar directly opposite of it. Something punctured straight through his arm.  _ A bullet.  _

“Sir?” 

Eddie snaps his head up, remembering the question. “Uh, LAPD.” Those blue eyes widen and panic floods his gut. “ _ I mean FD _ ! LAFD. I’m, uhh…” Huh. “I’m a firefighter.” 

The doctor nods, jotting something down and the rest of the questions focus on his physical state. Level of pain, any other areas of the body that hurt, if he has any appetite. He follows the light shone in his eye, agrees to come back later for more tests, and ignores the quick text the man sends while the nurse takes down his vitals. 

Then, they’re alone again. 

“Hey, Eddie?” The cautious tone stirs up the dread settled in his chest. “I need to ask you something, but I promise, no matter what you say, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here with you, ok?” 

This guy is way too good at calming him down. “Ok.”

Time seems stretched and twisted and worn as he waits for him to speak. Maybe he’s as scared to ask as Eddie is to answer. Maybe he changed his mind and won’t ask anything, afterall. Maybe he’ll let the charade continue, just a little longer.

“What’s my name?”

Nope. Instant defeat. A knockout in the first round. He thinks he gave the  _ doctor _ a better fight; barely, but still. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Hey. No. Look at me, Eds.” Those ocean irises draw his gaze. They’re sincere, and he’d even call them beautiful if they weren’t so sad. “It’s ok. I know things might be a bit confusing but, see? I’m still here. And I won’t leave unless you want me to.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Not at all! In fact, I’m actually kinda happy. This is my second chance to make a good first impression. I was… kind of a jerk to you the first time we met. I mean it took a bomb for me to see you were actually a really cool guy.”

“A  _ bomb _ ?” 

“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it later,” he chuckles with a crooked grin that Eddie finds unnaturally contagious. “First things first.” His hand extends out to him. “I’m Evan Buckley, but you can call me Buck.”

It takes him a moment to realize he’s waiting for Eddie to shake his hand. With so many casual touches already, it feels like a step backwards. Maybe that’s the point. 

“Nice to meet you, Buck.”

“So.” Buck clears his throat. “The rest of the team is kinda outside right now. They had left to grab some food when you woke up and I texted them to hang back when I realized things weren’t quite right… They’d just do some basic introductions but you don’t have to see them if you’re not ready. There’s no rush to this.”

“I, uhh.” Meeting a bunch of strangers who all know him far more than he knows himself. That’s not terrifying at all. “Would you stay with me? Have them come in one at a time so you can mediate?” His cheeks are on fire. “If you don’t mind. I’m so sorry.”

Buck’s smile never leaves his face. “That’s smart, yeah. How about we have a signal, too, in case you start to feel overwhelmed. Watch.” He cups their hands together and taps twice on the pad of Eddie’s finger. “They won’t see it and it’ll let me know you need some space. I’ll do the talking, too, so don’t worry about coming up with an excuse. Sound good?”

It’d be a lie to say he didn’t check to see if they were wearing wedding rings, right that second. The most shocking thing since waking up is not finding them. 

Buck let’s go of Eddie’s hand to send out several long texts explaining things, but it’s back by the time the first person walks in. He’s a sturdy, authoritative man whose eyes immediately zone in on the way Buck’s fingers curl around his. Eddie almost taps out then and there. 

“Hello, Eddie. I’m Bobby Nash, fire captain of the 118. I’m glad to see you’re awake and talking. How are you feeling?” 

“Pretty good, all things considered. Thank you, sir.”

A weight on his shoulders lifts at the captain’s gentle huff. “You can call me Bobby. ‘Sir’ makes me feel like an old man... I don’t know how much Buck has told you, but do you have any questions you’d like me to answer?”

Hmm. Well, this is his boss, right? “I guess… What does this mean for my job? Do I go back to work even when I don’t remember you guys?”

“Easy, Eddie. You still took a pretty bad hit. You’re gonna have time off while you recover and hopefully you’ll regain some of your memories by then. We can discuss this when it gets closer for you to return but for now, all we can do is wait and see. No matter what, though, everythings gonna be alright, ok? We’ve all got your back.”

He meets Henrietta next, then Chimney. Both of them keep things brief, sparing him from information overload. And, neither of them mention Buck’s hand in his. Eddie has a sudden thought that maybe this is common for them, and his chest grows warm. 

….

As it turns out, Dr. Torres didn’t fall for Eddie’s clipped answers, earlier. Big surprise. She brings in a couple charts to explain how much, and how little, scientists truly understand trauma-based amnesia. There are statistics, and that certainly helps them gauge their expectations, but there’s really nothing they can do to cure amnesia specifically. All they can do is monitor the healing of the actual head wound and give estimations based on previous cases. 

She assures them that, while this is a confusing time for them, Eddie’s concussion wasn’t a serious head trauma and he’s actually free to leave tonight. They’ll check his progress at his next appointment. For now, he should minimize stress, take his medication, and get plenty of rest. If they can, they should introduce him to familiar environments or objects that might trigger some of his memories to come back. 

Finally, after a number of concussion care lectures aimed more at Buck than Eddie, he’s being released. Buck chatters away, back turned to Eddie as he dresses himself into a pair of sweats and a soft tee his team brought by. They really saved him the embarrassment of walking out in a dusty baseball uniform. Or a hospital gown. 

“Your abuela and tia wanted to come but I promised we’d visit them on Tuesday if they let you rest now. Honestly, they’d smother you with affection and I don’t want you exhausting yourself trying to keep them happy. I’m hoping by Tuesday, you’re able to settle in a bit more. Not feel so much like a stranger in your own skin.”

Eddie didn’t realize how true those words could be until he steps into the restroom and catches a glimpse at himself in the mirror. His reflection. How could he not know his own reflection? He traces the curve of his jaw, his eyes, his nose, his hair, his stubble... This is  _ him _ . That’s his face.

With minor teasing from Buck about pushing Eddie’s wheelchair all the way to the front entrance --  _ it’s the law, Eds -- _ they eventually shuffle into Buck’s car with a sigh of relief. Eddie’s buckling his seatbelt when he realizes the man hasn’t moved once since shutting the door. 

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Everything is good, it’s just…” That perpetually happy expression crumbles. “ _ Chris _ .” 

Someone new? He does recall Buck mentioning Chris before, saying they’d been worried all day. “Are they someone important?” 

A loud snort comes out at that. “He’s the most important thing in your life. He’s… You have a son. Named Christopher.”

Oh. 

_ Oh _ . 

A son. He has a son waiting for him at his house. Does that mean…?

“Where’s his mom?” 

Something somber creeps into those eyes. “She passed away awhile ago. It was hard on both of you, but things have gotten better. He’s a great kid and everyone at the station adores him.” Eddie watches Buck’s grip tighten around the wheel. “Do you know what cerebral palsy is?” 

Something with the spine? “No.”

“Umm.. Ok. Basically, he talks a little slower and he has a bit of trouble getting around on his own, but he has crutches to help him. There’s other stuff, too, obviously, but I'm saying this because I don’t want you to be blindsided when you see him. He’s still an  _ incredible _ kid who loves drawing and watching movies and he  _ really, really _ loves you. The woman he’s with right now, Carla, is a nurse. She watches over him while you’re at work and she’s gonna be stopping by more often to retrain you on anything you need to know. I’m gonna be there, too. And if things really feel out of place, Bobby, Hen, and your abuela are all ready for an emergency sleepover at any time.” 

The strain of his voice, how it fights to keep it’s optimistic tone: Buck’s afraid. He’s afraid  _ for  _ Chris, his  _ son _ . 

In all honesty, the words wash over him pretty easily. It could be the fact that  _ everything _ is new to him right now and  _ everything _ is scary that it’s depleted his sensitization. Or maybe it’s the broad net of people he finds himself able to rely on, waiting with open arms to catch him if he falls. Either way, the smile on his face soothes the tension from those wide shoulders. 

“Thank you.” He inhales once. “Alright. Let’s go.”

….

“Carla talked to Chris so he knows not to crowd you. He’s such a smart kid, he understands things beyond what I could know.” Buck turns the lock on the door. “Ready?”

He nods. 

A woman, Carla, he’s guessing, stands a distance from the door with a little boy tucked close to her leg. It’s obvious by the way her nails lightly scratch against his head that he wants comfort. 

“Hey, Superman.” Buck steps forward to scoop the boy in his arms, balancing his crutches against the wall. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m ok.” In a hushed whisper, Eddie can hear him ask, “Does Dad really not remember me?”

It strikes his heart like a hammer and he watches as Buck taps their foreheads together, whispering back, “It’s true, buddy. He doesn’t remember any of us. And it might take him some time to get his memories back so we’re gonna have to be patient. I’ll be here to keep you both company this week, though, ok?”

“Sleepover!” 

“Yeah, buddy. Sleepover.” That soft chuckle rings in his ears. “Let’s go introduce yourself, yeah?”

As they approach, Eddie gets a better look at the child --  _ his  _ child. Curly hair, thick-framed glasses, and dinosaur pajamas. The toothy grin, though. That’s what really gets him. 

“Hi. My name is Christopher Diaz.”

Eddie shakes the small hand, unable to stop the corner of his lip from twitching up at the formal gesture. “It’s nice to meet you, Christopher.”

“Now you say your name.”

“Oh!” Buck smacks himself with a laugh. “Shoot. I completely forgot.” 

Soft breath tickles his ear as Buck leans in with a whisper. 

“Hello. I’m Edmundo Diaz.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dad.” 

“I’m Carla Price.” Carla has no hesitation getting into his space, gaze fixed on the purple bruising peeking under the bandage on his head. “Oh sweety,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’m gonna warm you up some food. Buck are you hungry?” 

“I can come help.” He lets the boy down, turning to Eddie. “You good?” 

Chris is wobbling over to his crutches, getting a firm grip before making his way to the couch. 

“Yeah, I think so.” He drops into the space next to Chris, a few inches between them, and stares ahead to the TV. “What are we watching?” 

“Monsters, Inc. It’s your favorite. I wanted to wait for you to get home before I started it.” Chris fiddles with the remote in his hand. “Do you not remember this either?” 

“I don’t. But I bet I’ll still love it. It’s just like watching it for the first time.”

“You cried the first time we watched it,” Chris giggles. 

“I did? Then I better grab some tissues. Mind telling me where they are?” 

An enthusiastic finger points over to a hall closet and he catches Buck beaming at them from the kitchen doorway. The lasagna they eat is amazing, Carla indulging in her praise, and, yes, Eddie does tear up when Sully hugs Boo goodbye. It’s an emotional scene, ok? They’re halfway through Wall-E when something bumps into his arm. Chris is slumped against him, a soft snore passing his lips, and it has to be one of the cutest things Eddie’s ever seen.

“It’s been a long day for him,” Carla mumbles, eyes lingering on the boy. “He was scared when he saw you go down on the field. Buckaroo here kept us updated, let us know you were alright, but I could tell he was still worried.” 

Eddie can only imagine. And at such a young age, to have to process all of this. 

Buck shifts off the couch in one slow, achy motion. “Ugh, hospital chairs. I don’t know how you do it for me every time.” Eddie doesn’t have time to figure out what that means before the man moves in. “I can take him to bed, if you want?” The offer sets off an intense calling from his gut that tells him to keep Christopher close. The feeling must read out on his face. “Or, how about this?” 

Slipping a pillow onto Eddie’s lap, Buck tenderly maneuvers Chris so that his neck is resting comfortably and not at the awkward angle it was. Carla sneaks away to wash their dishes, then wishes them goodnight.

Once again, they find themselves alone. 

Since the start of the film, Eddie might have identified with one of the robot’s lesser griefs. There’s an itch in the center of his palm that’s been there since Buck sat down on the other end of the couch. Would it be wrong to ask if he would hold his hand? He didn’t seem to mind before, but Eddie was in the hospital. The man is clearly an affectionate person, so he was probably just showing support. Still, the compulsion to reach out and tangle their fingers is strong. 

If he did ask, Buck probably wouldn’t deny him...

_ No _ . 

He shouldn’t take advantage of his kindness. Buck’s already done so much.

Pushing all his attention onto the film, Eddie becomes immersed in the dramatic twist the story has taken. And that’s when he sees it. The way Buck dunks his head as Eve calls out for Wall-E to look at her, to  _ recognize _ her, only to be met with a blank expression. Eddie’s been so focused on what Buck’s been  _ telling _ him to focus on -- himself, his team, his family. He just believed him when he told Eddie he was ok. It’s obvious, now, he would never say anything else. Not when he wasn’t the injured party.

Everything Buck has done has been to keep Eddie moving forward, to make sure Eddie is alright. To make sure the people important to him are alright. But he completely skipped himself. 

A small spark goes off between the robots, something suspiciously similar to a kiss, and suddenly everyone is cheering that Wall-E is back. Love conquers all. As the melodic credits begin to roll, Eddie wonders if he, the him before the accident, believes in true love. Then, he wonders if Buck does, too. 

“I can carry him if you show me where his room is?”

Light twinkles in those crinkled eyes and Buck waves for him to follow. Christopher’s room is full of art and toys and Eddie kind of gets lost taking everything in. It’s… This is a kid’s room. In the house he owns. And his son is asleep in his arms. It’s almost impossible to believe this is all really his.

He follows Buck’s lead as they tuck Chris into bed, slipping off his glasses and planting a doting kiss on his head. 

“Hey,” he whispers when they walk out to the hall, inching the door shut behind them. “About the sleepover.” 

“Oh... Uhh, yeah, I get it. I’m still a stranger, afterall. I can just come back in the morning. If you want, I mean. I-”

“What?” Confusion shuts down any other thought until it hits him. “No! I’m not kicking you out. I was gonna ask if you had any clothes to change into. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable just because you’re stuck here with me.”

“I’m not-” Buck shakes his head. “Yeah, I have some sweats but I also have some extra clothes in my Jeep.” A pause. “I’m not stuck here, Eds. I’m here because I want to be. I promise. Now, come on, your room’s this way. You need to rest.”

Eddie sits patiently at the edge of his bed while Buck rummages through his drawers, tugging out a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. It’s like lightning bursting the bulb in his head, knowing their clothes are intermingled. That has to mean something. 

Eddie snaps back to attention when Buck takes off towards the door. “Wait.” His ubruptness feels silly under that vigilant gaze. How should he phrase this... “Where are you going?” 

_ Dammit.  _ It's late at night, they’re both drained, and Eddie asks the man who has taken care of him all day ‘ _ where’s he going?’  _ He sounds so freaking clingy. 

“I’m heading to the closet to grab a pillow and blanket for the couch.” 

“You don’t…” Ugh. “I mean, usually, before… You didn’t… sleep…  _ here _ ?” There must be a record for butchering sentences and he’s beat it, no doubt. 

The humility flooding his bloodstream is quickly washed away by the look on Buck’s face. His eyes are narrowed, eyebrows pulled together in thought with his mouth half-open. It’s a long silence before he finally speaks and the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. 

“No,” he turns away. “We don’t have that kind of relationship, sorry. I’ll be out here if you need anything. Goodnight.” 

The last word hardly makes it past the click of the door being shut. 

Yep. He messed up.

….

The mix of quiet laughter and pans clacking against various surfaces echo from afar. And,  _ yes,  _ he thinks, a rush of familiarity wrapping around his heart.  _ That’s _ the sound he was missing yesterday and he wonders, blissfully, how he could have ever forgotten it. 

“Dad!” Christopher cheers as Eddie stumbles into the kitchen. “Buck had the best idea!” 

“Careful with the knife, buddy,” Buck chuckles and guides the plastic utensil back towards the sandwiches. “I just thought it’d be fun to get out of the house and reintroduce you to LA. We can start with the beach today, then hit more places over the week. Does that sound ok?”

“That sounds great.” His son is handing him a knife to help when he decides to add, “I don’t actually remember the beach.”

Christopher nearly shrieks. “You don’t know what a beach is!?” 

“Wait, no,” Eddie laughs. “I know  _ what _ a beach is. I just don’t have any memories of  _ being _ on one.”

“You’re gonna love it!” Even through the long breaths, Eddie can tell these excited rambles are common for Chris. So what if it takes him a little longer to get all his words out? It’s not stopping him. “We can build a sandcastle. And collect shells. And Buck has a friend who measures earthquakes. He said he’d warn us if another tsunami was coming so we don’t get caught again.” 

“You got caught in a tsunami?” Ok, they’re obviously both fine but it doesn’t mean the fear pumping through his body isn’t there. 

“Yeah, we did... Almost a year ago. Took us a long time before we even dared go near the water but since I contacted this seismologist, we’ve started going again. He’s a really cool guy. He explained everything in simple terms so we could understand. He’s even agreed to give a public lecture about it at the anniversary event the city is holding this summer.”

“The ocean didn’t mean to hurt us, Dad. It just got pushed and couldn’t stop itself from falling on us. The moon pushes it all the time, but more gently, and that’s how we get waves. But then the earthquake shoved it really hard, and that caused the really big wave. It wasn’t the ocean’s fault.” 

“That’s… You’re right, it wasn’t.” He stares down to his fists on the table. “I can’t believe I can’t remember a tsunami.”

“You were saving people.” 

Eddie blinks at the words.

“He’s right. You were on shift. It was just me and Chris that day. I took him down to the pier and…” Edddie catches the gradual slow of Buck’s movement as his eyes lose their focus. “I didn’t know the water could recede that far…” He jerks suddenly, snapping back into action. “Anyways, a couple weeks after, I got tired of running in circles researching earthquakes so I emailed a seismology team who works here in LA. I was surprised when they replied, and they were really nice about everything when I explained our situation. The head guy, Rick, promised to text me the second they think something looks even minorly suspicious.” Buck smiles at the cut fruit in front of him, dumping them into a bowl and sealing it. “We managed to get our feet in the sand a month later. And a few weeks ago our toes finally touched the water. We’re making great progress, aren’t we, Superman?”

“Yeah!” 

“My goal is to eventually get us on a boat. You mentioned whale watching a while back when we saw this ocean documentary so, when we’re ready, I found a place that got good reviews. They don’t try to get too close where it’s dangerous for the whale, they give lots of fun facts about the animals and their lives, they pick up trash they find floating in the water, and there’s a good chance of running into a dolphin pod... It’s something nice to look forward to whenever we get there.”

“Yeah… It is…”

The word for what’s growing in Eddie’s chest -- what’s been growing since the moment he laid eyes on the man, and what he’s sure has only just begun to bloom -- isn’t a word he can say. His voice could never do it justice. And the word, the  _ feeling _ , is old. Older than the accident. It’s been tucked behind his sternum for safe keeping. Waiting. The big question, though, is waiting for what? 

….

“Want me to take him?”

It’s been eight days since Buck has (essentially) moved in, and life has been...  _ really _ great. His headaches are gone, the giant bruise on his head is healing, his follow-up appointments went well. After dropping Chris off at school in the mornings, they’d plan their day and Eddie’s gotten to see some truly beautiful sights around the city. 

They popped by the station and managed to eat lunch with everyone around the table twice, the third time interrupted by the alarm. In the time he did spend with them, he found his team is sweet and pretty keen on joking around rather than adhering to a strict professionalism. He kinda loves it, and the station settles quickly into his heart.

Most evenings, he, Buck, and Chris are curled up on the couch with a movie Eddie supposedly loves. And he does, every time. The other evenings, they waited for Chris before heading out to Eddie’s favorite museum or Eddie’s favorite restaurant. 

They actually stopped saying the words “loves” and “favorite” after the fourth thing failed to bring any memories back. He probably has Buck to thank for that. It’s been a string of disappointments for all of them. He doesn’t want to ruin these places in their mind, and every time he tries, he fails to turn back to the person they’re expecting. Buck must have realized and taken pity. 

The one thing he has been able to get down, though, is taking care of Chris. Carla is a saint and deserves every good thing in life. She’s been so patient with him, so charismatic and calming, he couldn’t imagine doing this without her. 

Yes, his abuela and tia are amazing and they clearly love both of them very much, but they wanted to take every responsibility out of Eddie’s hands and into their own. They wanted to baby him. To take care of his son for him. But  _ Carla _ ? She has given him the confidence to stand up and do things. Thanks to her, he really believes that he can be a good father to Chris.  _ With practice.  _

There was something about his tia’s and abuela’s mannerisms that struck his heart, however, even if he can’t pinpoint what. He almost cried when they hugged him, speaking a language he didn’t know he understood.  _ Yeah _ , he knows  _ Spanish _ . And he’s well versed in every pet name in the dictionary because of them. They love him, and he thinks he loves them. And they all definitely love Chris. 

“I got him.” He has this routine down, already turning to where he knows Buck is coming in with a glass of water for when Chris gets thirsty at night. “Thank you,” he says when they walk back out to the living room. 

“So.” The dreaded day has come. “I guess I should head out.”

Bobby had granted Buck a week off to take care of Eddie and make sure he settled in. And he has. Now, Buck has work in the morning. Their domesticity is officially over. 

Or...

“What time do you have work?”

Buck yawns, scratching his neck. “8am. I gotta go shower and get some sleep. My nice little holiday kinda pushed my hours back so I’m gonna have a couple 12 hour shifts in a row. That means I probably won’t be by for a visit until… Thursday? I mean, if I wake up. But I’ll text you. And don’t be afraid to call if you need anything. If I don’t answer, it means I’m on call, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, ok?”

“ _ Or _ ...” Buck’s hand freezes on the handle. Here goes nothing. “Or you can keep staying here? I can make you food after you get back from your shift. Chris and I can be extra quiet so you can sleep. You can come sleep in my bed so the couch doesn’t mess up your back. I’ll even take the couch, if it makes you more comfortable. Just…” Why can’t he say this right? “I want you here. And so does Chris. We’ve really… The past week has meant a lot to both of us and we’d really love it if you stayed.”

“Woah, Eds-” His jaw snaps shut, a shine to his eyes. The deep curve of fear on his brow is all Eddie can see. “This is a big step. We- You can’t ask me this right now. You don’t have all your memories.” 

“But you’ve been staying here  _ because _ I didn’t have my memories, so…?” 

Panic tinges his cheeks. “You’re asking me to move in with you. To be a part of your  _ family _ . What will you do when you start dating?”

Seriously? “Well, I was kinda hoping to date  _ you _ .” He couldn’t have read all of those signals wrong. “I like you, Buck. You’re loving and selfless and you make me and my son smile. You fit so well into our lives. And I know I’m going out of order, here, but-”

“ _ No. _ ” All his insides sink to his feet. “Just, stop. You have no idea how much I…” Long fingers scrub furiously through blond hair. “I know you think you like me but, trust me, you don’t.”

_ What?  _ “What?”

“Eddie-” A sigh. “Look, to the you when you finally get all your memories back, I’m sorry. We can forget this whole conversation. I won’t hold it against you.” 

“Buck, what are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember this but I asked you out a month ago and you declined, very adamantly... Yeah, ok, you like me, Eds, but you’ve only known me for a couple of days. You’ve only seen the me that takes care of you. There are  _ years _ of other memories you have that  _ prove _ that I’m no good. You just forgot them. I’ve made stupid choices, we’ve had agruments, we got into a really bad fight. And I’m sure there’s other stuff you hate about me that you’ve just never said to my face.” He can physically hear his heart break for the hollowed man before him. “You like me because you don’t know me. Because you forgot everything wrong about me. But when you get your memories back, you’ll remember why you said no... I’m sorry. I can’t move in with you.”

He’s out the door before Eddie can blink.

….

“There, there,” Carla soothes for what must be the fifth time that day.

“I can’t believe I lost him. I lost him before I even  _ had  _ him. I’m such an idiot!”

“Hush, he’ll be back. He just needs to focus on work the next couple days and then you two can talk it out when he visits on Thursday.”

“You're right… I can make him his favorite food. As an apology.” The small noise slips past Carla’s lips before she can stop it. “Oh, god. What did I do now?”

“Nothing, hon. We all know you try your best in the kitchen, but… Well, Buck’s been fixing your meals behind your back all week. He told me how excited you were to ‘find out your culinary skills’ and he didn’t want to break it to you that you’ve burnt, undercooked, or overspiced every meal you’ve ever made. At least anything more advanced than pasta.” He frowns harder at the smile on her face. “Ok, he might have fiddled with the flame or hid certain spices when you weren’t looking, but I am here now. And I will help you so you don’t give our boy food poisoning again.”

“Again!?” 

“It was a long night for all of us, we didn’t know then. But you’ve improved a lot since Buck started giving you direction. It’s just when you're alone that we worry.”

“Jesus, I’m useless! How could Buck even like someone like me when I clearly need someone to hold my hand through  _ everything? _ Memories or not.” 

“Eddie, you listen to me right now. There is nothing wrong with needing a little help. There’s no rule saying you have to do everything on your own because you are  _ never _ actually on your own. You have people you can rely on. We won’t do it  _ for  _ you, but we’ll be around to nudge you in the right direction. And you do the same for us.” 

“Really?”

“Absolutely. There is so much good in you, Eddie, we can see that. But you don’t let anyone in. Occasionally, we get a glimpse in high-stake situations or when Chris is involved. Then you shut us right out again. It’s not cruel, but there is a certain  _ you _ you present to the world and that includes all of us. We want to know you. You just have to let us.”

He stares intently at the individual threads comprising his couch. “Is that what I did to Buck? Shut him out?” Carla rubs his back gently. “I can feel it: I’ve liked him longer than I remember. But he said I rejected him. And he’s convinced something’s  _ wrong _ with him, that I secretly  _ hate  _ him. What the hell kind of monster have I been to him?”

“Oh, Eddie… you know I love you,” she says in all sincerity, “but you used to let your anger take control, and you did some awful things. That fight Buck mentioned? You were both going through stuff at the time. You confronted each other and things turned south. I know Buck apologized for his part in it, but I can’t say if you ever apologized for yours.”

A black sludge fills his chest and he can’t breath. “What did I tell him?”

“I don’t know. But I know he went radio silent for a while after it. He usually checked in with me to see how Christopher was doing and I’d tell him things were fine. After you and the others ‘saw’ him at a grocery store, though? Nothing. We both know how much he loves Christopher, so whatever you said must have hurt.”

“I-” 

_ Exhausting!  _

Sharp needles, that are also on fire, pierce his skull from the inside. 

_ None of your business.  _

_ Selfish! _

_... -what it’d do to us?  _

“Eddie?”

_ … -any idea how much Chrisopher misses you? No, of course not.  _

_ Suck it up. _

God, his eye. He can’t open it against the stabbing pain radiating from his head. It’s like every nerve decided to fire off at once. 

_ I wasn’t enough.  _

_ Still mad.  _

Blurry figures swarm around him and he feels his muscles jerking, his body screaming, as he’s carted out of the house. Every little bump on the wheel is like a punch to his head. 

_ Just don’t do it again.  _

Wow. He really never apologized. 

….

“Hey, he’s waking up.”  _ Chim.  _ “Welcome back, bud. You gave us a scare.”

Eddie opens his eyes one at a time, groaning against the dim lights above his hospital bed. 

“The doctor said you blacked out due to a high level of stress.” Hen’s here, too. “Just because the outside looks a little better, doesn’t mean the inside is done healing, Eddie. When a medical professional tells you to rest, they aren’t kidding.” 

The room comes into focus and he can see the two paramedics sitting beside him, Bobby standing near the door. “Sorry…”

His captain shakes his head. “It’s alright. You apologized enough on the ride over here.”

The ride over? “I was talking?” 

Chim and Hen exchange a look. “Yeah. You kept saying you were sorry. Nearly smacked Chim across the face trying to get out of the ambulance, then you were out like a light. 

“I’m fine, by the way, thanks to my superb reflexes.” Chimney blinks. “Wait, if you didn’t know what was happening, why were you saying all that?”

He said he was sorry…?

_ Oh, no. _

“Where’s Buck?” Hen turns to Bobby with both eyebrows raised, mouthing  _ ‘Told you _ .’ Told him what? Wait, it doesn’t matter. “I need to talk to him. Please.”

All eyes jump to his heart monitor, but Eddie doesn’t have to look to feel his own pulse racing. 

“Eddie.” Dammit, he’s using his captain’s voice. “Carla mentioned some of the details from your conversation leading up to your episode. We don’t know what happened, but the doctors need you to keep your stress levels down.” Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “Maybe you and Buck should keep your distance until you heal up a bit.”

“ _ Cap _ .” The room halts with a gasp. “I messed up and I’m going to  _ keep _ stressing until I fix it. I will do all the dishes for a week as soon as I’m back. Just,  _ please. _ Please let me see him.” 

A silent conversation between his team probably wouldn’t bug him if he weren’t so desperate to see his best friend. Then, Bobby speaks. 

“He’s been in the waiting room this whole time. We thought something might have happened between you two when he refused to come in.” A pause. “When did you get your memories back?”

“Just before I passed out... He’s out there because I hurt him.”

“He’s out there because he cares about you.” Hen’s hand finds his, gripping it tight. “If Buck didn’t want to be near you, he would have gone home. But he’s here. That means you still have a chance to make things right.”

The words leaving his lips feel too small, too fragile, to be his own. “I keep messing up and he doesn’t even know… He thinks it’s his fault.”

Chim stands with a sigh, folding his arms over his chest. “We’ve all made mistakes, Eddie. They’re not on purpose. But we do have to apologize for making them and do our best to fix them. That’s all we  _ can _ do. I’m sure Buck will forgive you, or at least appreciate you trying.” 

With a wistful ‘Goodluck,’ they take off, Eddie listening carefully for a familiar pair of boots to come marching down the hall. He doesn’t expect them to stop just on the other side of the wall, right before the door. 

“Buck?” No response. “Buck, I know it’s you. Please, come in. I need to talk to you.” 

It takes a second for another click of his heel to ring out, and then the man is dragging his feet into the room, defeated. Wishing he’d prepared a speech seems pointless, now... Opening his mouth, Buck suddenly finds his own voice. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The anger boiling in his gut is probably a little misplaced, but  _ no _ . This is not going to happen. 

“Don’t you dare. You didn’t do anything wrong, Buck, so stop blaming yourself.”

“I yelled at you last night and now you’re in the hospital for high stress. You were  _ seizing,  _ Eds. And then you blacked out. Do you have any idea how scared I was?” 

“Listen to me.  _ This is not on you _ . You were right and I should have waited for my memories to come back before asking something like that. If I had, I would have remembered you asking me out to dinner at that new Italian place downtown. And how you said we could bring a meatball sub back for Chris afterwards, because he’s obsessed with them.” Buck’s eyes are open far too wide and he thinks it might sting when he finally blinks, but he continues. “I would have remembered how much of an  _ asshole _ I was to you about the lawsuit. How I never apologized for the terrible things I told you... I was afraid to even bring it up again because I thought it would cause another fight, so I moved past it a long time ago. I didn’t consider that you were still thinking about it. That you  _ believed _ the things I said. NONE of it was true, Buck, I  _ swear _ . And I am so sorry I ever said it.”

“Eddie…”

“You are one of the best things to happen to me and it took having amnesia for me to finally admit it. I am so _ in love with you _ . And I will always regret making you doubt that, to think I could feel anything remotely different… I want you to move in because having you in the same room brings every ray of sunshine back into my life. You have become a crux to me and my son’s happiness, just by being you, and I will spend the rest of my life doing my best to remind you that.” He breathes. “I know you couldn’t trust my feelings when I lost my memories, but they’re back now. And I still love you. 

Those long fingers rub into the skin of his chest over and over, and Buck bites his lip forcefully, tears balancing on the edge of his lashes. “You were an asshole,” he chuckles wetly. 

“I have a lot more work to do in therapy. So as much as I’d love to ask you to move in today, I think I should save the offer for another time.” Buck nods, wiping his eyes. “I’ve ruined a lot of my relationships, from Shannon to my parents, because of my anger. My impatience. I was afraid that if I said yes to a date with you, I’d drive you away, too.” His words muffle under the ball in his throat. “We had just gotten back to normal after I nearly ruined our friendship. I couldn’t risk losing you, again, so I shut you down. I’m sorry.” 

It takes all his strength to keep his head up at that. And, wow, does it hurt to hear the caution still in that voice. 

“You really love me?”

“Yes. And I’m sorry I let my fear get in the way of treating you the way I should. I’m going to make it up to you.” 

A little smile curls at the edge of his lips. “You can start by taking me on a date?”

“Italian?”

“And a meatball sub for Chris.”

“That sounds great. Or, you know… I could always cook for you?” Buck’s burst of laughter sends warmth coursing through his veins. “Ok, ok, I get it. I gotta practice a little more before then.”

“I believe in you, Eds.” 

“Thanks.” He blinks. “Woah, what time is it? I have to pick Chris up from school.”

“Karen’s got him. He thinks you’re just getting another check-up and is probably playing video games with Denny right now.”

“Oh good,” he sighs. “I didn’t want him to worry about me being in the hospital again.” 

“Between the two of us, this might just be a regular Monday for him.” Oh, god, he’s right. “I’ll try to keep my visits to a minimum if you do?” 

“It was a baseball game! It’s not my fault I got hit, it was an accident.”

“So was 90% of the things that put me in the hospital, yet you all still call me reckless.”

“Ok, fair.” They take a moment to think. “Accident prone?”

“That’s much more accurate, thank you.”

Dr. Torres greets them with a smile, but with years working under Bobby, they could both see how thoroughly unimpressed she was. She did seem genuinely happy to learn Eddie’s memories were back, though. After an hour, they tell him his scans came back clear and he’s free to go. There’s a cold fire in the doctor’s eyes as she warns him once again to rest properly, and it transforms into something warm when he answers honestly. 

Buck is wheeling him towards the exit when Eddie whispers, “She’s kind of terrifying isn’t she?” 

“Yeah, but I like it. She understands we’re dealing with your  _ brain _ here, Eddie, and wants you to take care of yourself. It’s not like you can get a transplant. And I’m not dating anyone else’s brain but yours so don’t even try it.”

“Yes, sir,” he chuckles. 

Carla already picked up Chris, so they head straight to the house. When Buck rolls into the driveway and doesn’t turn the engine off, he frowns. 

“I got two more shifts, Eds. Sorry.”

“It’s ok, really. Just be careful out there.” The car door opens with a click but he doesn’t open it an inch before he’s turning around. “So… Dinner? Thursday?”

“It’s a date.  Oh, and Eddie?” There’s hardly a moment to wonder what might come next when Buck tugs him close, their lips sealed together perfectly. “I love you, too.” 


End file.
